


In the Path of Mayflies

by Gallifrey_Immigrant



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen, Immortality, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 13:43:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9274601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gallifrey_Immigrant/pseuds/Gallifrey_Immigrant
Summary: So much history pushes down on Lady Me. Sometimes it's too much to bear.





	

A sword sunk into the flesh of her enemy. Blood spilled from wounds on her body, but she doesn't care. Pain is a constant friend of an immortal, and without a fear of death, there's nothing to stop her from ripping apart the entire army on the battlefield, body by body. The feel of a spear handle in her other hand keeps her alive. Laughter spills out of her mouth, running like a river.

  
"Ashildr? Are you feeling well?" asks Clara. Her wide eyes peer at Me, with that usual look of concern. Clara was always caring, far too caring, in Me's opinion. Forcing herself from her hint of a memory, Me focused back to reality. They were in a small bar in some random city. Clara would certainly know which city they were in.

  
"Just reminiscing on past times," Me said. It wouldn't be nice to share the bloody events of a battle over coffee. Clara didn't really know the joy of war, and Me suspected that Clara wouldn't know how to handle it.  
Clara got her thinking face on. Me prepared for the inevitable "Hold on, I thought" question. When Me had first found Clara, she had been prepared to be underestimated. Most people just saw her young face, and assumed she was stupid. Even if they technically knew she was immortal, they still couldn't get past her face. Me had long accepted that people were superficial idiots, but Clara was different. Not that Clara didn't look down on Me at times, but Clara at least took Me seriously. It was a small thing, but it kept Clara likeable even in her irritating moments.

  
"Hold on. I thought you didn't have long term memories," said Clara. She leaned over, and Me could see the lack of white breath coming from her mouth. It was the only tell-tale sign that Clara was technically undead.  
"Occasionally, I get flashes. Sometimes I think memories never go away," said Mel. She caught the eye of a young girl passing by with two parents, who clearly needed the coffee . The girl waved, and Me waved back slowly.

  
Had Me met that girl's ancestor? Or perhaps the ancestor of Clara's? That was the problem with meeting several generations of mayflies. How many of these people's ancestors had she crossed paths with? How many had she killed? How many had killed her?

  
History was pressing in on her. This simple bar suddenly felt like a prison, like she didn't belong. And, in some ways, she didn't. She'd taken the slow path, and on the final day, alone in the universe, she'd made peace. She had been ready to oversee the heat death of the universe, and see what came next.  
Then the Doctor and Clara showed up. And Clara's charm swept her away, and into the path of mayflies. Me had few regrets. But, she couldn't go anywhere without feeling the stink of history on her. All of the people--the baristas, the customers, even Clara--began to fray at her nerves.

  
Perceptive as ever, Clara held Me's hand, and said "It's okay. Whatever you remember has passed. Just let it go."

  
Me felt the coolness of Clara's hands. It was an admirable attempt at comfort. But even as she looked at Clara, she could see a faint image of Clara in an old village, saying words of comfort. Then she remembered a dragon, and being in a metal cage, and then dying. Oh God, the pain...

  
"Ashildr, are you crying? What's wrong?"asked Clara. She talked to Me like she was comforting a child, and Me hated it.

  
"What's wrong? This place. This stupid shop, with these stupid people, and this stupid crappie coffee. It's all wrong," said Me.  
Well, I admit the coffee's not the best. You know what, we can go to another shop," said Clara.

  
"I need some air," said Me. Without waiting for a response, she exited the shop.

  
Cold air blasted Me's face. It was dark now, and quiet too. Only a street lamp shone in the darkness. Me found herself wondering where she had been when the lamp was built. Had Me been in the city? Perhaps there had been a world War going on at the time. If there was, Me was almost certainly getting herself involved; conflict seemed to attract her. Clara had said that was the Viking part of Me.   
In hindsight, Me thought her time would have been better spent just watching street lights be built. There was something soothing about being around a functioning civilization. They almost always fell eventually, but it was fun watching them try.

  
"What's interesting about the street light?" asked Clara. Me wasn't surprised that Clara had followed her out.

  
"Sometimes I forgot you're a much younger immortal than me. You haven't seen as much history as I have," said Me. She turned back to face Clara. The light and the rain were making pretty patterns on Clara's face. It really was the roundest face Me could remember.

  
"No, I get it. Traveling with the Doctor, I know that this building, and everyone in it, will probably be forgotten in a 100 years. It's surreal," said Clara.

  
"And yet, you expect me to care about them," said Me.

  
"What else are we supposed to do? Just not care about anyone because it all won't matter in the end?" said Clara.

  
"None of it really will. And that's okay. I know how it ends. It's just difficult. To be honest, I'm not sure why I travel with you," said Me. It came out nastier than she intended, but it was true. Did she really want to see the universe all over again?

  
"Well, do you want me to drop you off somewhere?" said Clara.

  
"Drop me off where? Where would I go?" asked Me, laughing emptily. After some thought, Me shook her head.

  
"No, I want to stay. It's just difficult. In ways you can't imagine," said Me.

  
"Then tell me. I'm pretty clever," said Clara, grinning.

  
Me couldn't help but grin back. Not for the first time, she felt glad to have a friend like Clara.

  
"One day, perhaps. For now, give me a tour of the city. I think I may never have been here, at this specific point in time at present," said Me.

  
"And that's all that matters, Me. The present," said Clara, grabbing Me by the arm.

  
As Clara began describing the city, Me allowed the present moment to block out her memories of the past and future. She took one step in front of the other, second by second, the same path all the mayflies took.

 


End file.
